


Savior in a Strange Land

by dontshootmespence



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Miscarriage, On the Run, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23232922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontshootmespence/pseuds/dontshootmespence
Summary: King Samel of Copros and Queen Y/N of Ashela were married off to broker a peace between two feuding nations. Though she didn’t love him, she did what was demanded of her for the sake of her people, marrying the King and attempting to get pregnant with his child. After many miscarriages, the already rocky marriage takes a dark turn and forces the Queen to make an extremely difficult choice.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

How she dreamed of her home. In Ashela, she had the most perfect view, snow-capped mountains and clear blue skies serving as the backdrop for the quaint towns below. Just a short walk away, her favorite place - a field of pink tulips - would welcome her with open arms, soft scents and tranquility. At least before the war between Copros and Ashela began and destroyed nearly all that she held dear.

To broker a peace between her war-torn country, she married the loathsome King Samel of Copros with the promise that if she did, he would call his soldiers back home. Though contemptible at best, he kept his promise upon their union, leaving the people of Ashela, the people she loved more than herself, to rebuild and return their beautiful country to its former glory.

Though it wasn’t her home, Y/N carved out a small space for herself in Copros; a place where she could escape her husband’s vacillating mood. In the horse stables with the gentle creatures, she could bring herself back to that place in Ashela, where she would ride the countryside on her mare, Raya. 

As she had back home, she made a point of learning the names of all those that served her. Most were confused at first, having been treated with nothing but contempt by their king, but they soon came to learn that she was the complete opposite of their despicable monarch. 

Samel could not understand her desire to be among the common folk, to get her hands dirty doing such ‘menial’ work, but she did it regardless and he didn’t seem to care much either way. He called on her when she had to fulfill royal duties of any kind, but otherwise he left her to wander the grounds as she pleased.

She had no desire to have children with Samel, but given he was her husband she had no other choice, retiring to their shared room every night and allowing him to do what he must to provide the country with an heir. Three times she had been with child, only to lose them shortly after. The doctor and midwife assured the King that it was pure bad luck that took their children, fearing his wrath, but behind closed doors they informed her it was likely due to his roughness with her. 

Although she was covered head to toe in some of the most beautiful garments to ever grace the kingdom, hiding the marks and bruises that adorned her skin, it was obvious to most how Y/N suffered at Samel’s hands. Most perceptive of them all was a stable boy, or man rather, of nearly 30 whose name was Spencer, who also doubled as a riding partner and guide when she wanted to explore the countryside. 

Overworked and exhausted, his eyes softened in her presence, concern flowing through them every time he would catch sight of her mottled skin. Without words, he would know her distress and allow her to ask him questions about his life and what brought him to his place in Copros. 

At first, he’d taken the role in the King’s regime to help his ailing mother, Diana, who’d since passed away of what the doctors called ‘madness.’ Spencer disliked the term and its implication on his mother’s personality, which caused him to say she passed away from a ‘sickness of the head.’

He was more intelligent than anyone she’d ever met before, drowning himself in books whenever he wasn’t tending to the horses. “Why are you not working in the castle?” She asked one day, wondering why his intelligence was seemingly going to waste.

“I don’t think the King wants anyone more intelligent than he in his employ,” he said, without realizing he’d spoken aloud. “I d-didn’t mean..I-”

“There is no need to be nervous with me, Spencer,” Y/N replied. “You are probably right. If you’d like, you can share all that you learn with me. I would make an excellent student.”

Spencer smiled softly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. From that day forward, he would regale her with facts about the local flora and fauna, literature and anything else that tickled his fancy as they rode their horses. She especially enjoyed when he would recite poetry from memory.

As time continued, and her home country began to recover from the war, she lost another two children. Only the last one was identifiable as a girl. The wrong kind of heir to the throne. 

The cold corridors became even colder amidst the harsh wrath of the king. His voice bellowed through the halls, anger overcoming him at the news that his last child had been a girl. He needed a male heir. 

“I cannot control if the child is a boy or a girl!” She screamed back at him, nearly three years of pain bubbling up to the surface. “I wouldn’t be losing our children if you weren’t so rough with me.”

Samel stormed across the hallway, pushing her into the bedroom with a firm hand. “It is not my fault you keep losing our children,” he seethed, his anger visibly coursing within him. “You will do as you are meant to do and give me a male heir.” A crack resounded across the room, her cheek blooming red and heated. 

With tears in her eyes, she attempted to escape his grasp, only to be pulled back and slammed down onto the bed. Silencing herself, she lay back as he tore at her clothes and forced himself on her once again.

—–

After Samel fell asleep that night, Y/N slipped from the four-poster bed and removed the torn clothing, pulling on a nightgown, robe and slippers before descending the staircase toward the stables. A light mist coated her face as she ran into the dark night in search of some comfort from her new horse, Rowena. 

Opening the doors, she walked up to Rowena’s stable and watched her sleeping peacefully, her reddish mane shining dark under the light of the moon and the stars. “My Queen?”

“Spencer!” She exclaimed softly, pulling her robe tighter against her.

He held his hands up and apologized for scaring her. “My Queen-”

“Spencer, what have I told you before? Please call me, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. May I speak my mind?”

Nodding, she allowed a tear to fall from her eye.

“The King is not worthy of you.” His hand grazed over the new mark forming along her wrist. “With each new bruise, I find myself furious at his actions. They are not the mark of true man.”

“I know,” she replied softly, unsure of how much longer she would be able to keep up the facade of the willing wife. 

Spencer swallowed hard and dared to place his finger under her chin, tipping her head up to meet his gaze. “Allow me to take you away from here,” he pleaded. “I no longer have ties here. What I live for is our time together. With no expectations, please allow me to save you from this life.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do such a thing,” she replied as she wistfully looked out the stable’s windows. “The King would hunt us down and I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt because of my actions.”

“It kills me to see you so wilted. You deserve to bloom.”

A sad smile painted its way across her features. She wanted to leave, to bid the King farewell forever and never return, but she was scared. For herself, for her country, and for Spencer, but he sensed her hesitation. “I know these lands,” he assured her. “With a head start, we could go a distance before the King even noticed you were gone.”

“But he would notice,” she said worriedly. 

“The King is out of touch with everything outside his walls. I know this place better than he does. And I don’t have much. We could leave this place within the hour. You, me, Rowena and Clemens.”

A warmth flooded through her at the thought of being away from the King, living along the countryside with Spencer and their horses. “I am not a fighter,” she said.

“Neither am I,” he responded. “But I do have a weapon, and more importantly I have the wits to keep you safe from harm.”

Expectantly, he awaited her response, breathing a sigh of relief as she slipped her hands in his. He guided her back to his quarters, insisting she change into a spare pair of his clothes. Ever the gentleman, he turned to allow her privacy as she slipped into the pants and shirt that were much too big for her. But they would do.

As he promised, they were ready to leave within the hour. The horses were stirred awake. Food for themselves and the horses packed tightly into the horse-drawn wagon, along with wood, flint, extra clothing, a few books Spencer kept from his days with his mother, and anything else he could think of that they might need. “Do you need anything from the castle before we leave?” He asked.

Y/N glanced back toward the place that served as a poor substitute for home and shook her head. “There is nothing I need here.”

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

With a soft ‘ya,’ Spencer spurred the horses on, leading Y/N into the depths of the forest. Even though there was a chill in the air, her soft-spoken savior and the clear, starry night ahead gave her hope for a better tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours after they’d departed the castle with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the food they could carry, Spencer gave a lonely widower a fair payment for housing – if only for a few hours. “My wife is exceedingly tired, Sir. If we could only have a space to rest a while?”

With his wife departed nearly 15 years earlier, the man, who’d introduced himself as David, was more than willing to share what little he had. He excitedly welcomed them into his home, and guided them toward the spare bed, assuring them he’d take care of the horses in the meantime.

Underneath the scratchy blanket, Spencer apologized to Y/N profusely as they settled down to sleep. In the cramped bed, they were pushed up against each other, limbs entangled. “No worries,” she assured him. “We’ll make do with what we have.”

“I also apologize for calling you my wife,” he continued unable to keep his nervousness at bay. “My priority is keeping you safe and it was the first thing that came to mind.

Sleepily, she turned toward the soft stable boy with delicate brown curls and ran her hand along his jawline. “We have to pass ourselves off as anyone else in the kingdom,” she whispered, gentle smile giving way to sadness. “There are many worse men that could claim me as their wife.”

As Y/N began to drift off, she slipped her hand in his, her thumb brushing against his own, hoping to wake up as securely as she was falling asleep.

—–

She could see no more than inches before her own feet. Each step was a treacherous risk, the possibility of broken bones all too real as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. The crash of her feet against rocks jostled her insides, limbs threatening to tear themselves apart under the extreme strain. 

Without looking back, too afraid of what she’d find there, she continued careening through the woods. Tree roots and fallen branches nearly upended her as the sun began to descend, the last shreds of daylight dipping below the horizon.

An unearthly roaring screech blew past her ears, pushing her forward faster than she thought was physically possible. She didn’t even know what was chasing her, just that she had to avoid capture at all costs or she’d welcome a fate worse than death.

Ripping cloth pulled her attention downward for a moment, only to find herself in an enclosed room bathed in a sickly, greenish gray. When she spun around to search for a door, she found none, walls smooth as silk and not an escape in sight save for a small window in the upper right corner of the room that was far too small for someone grown to fit through. On its sill, sat a lone blue iris, slightly wilted, but nonetheless beautiful.

In an attempt to climb the walls and reach the window, she jumped with all her might, her fingernails scraping against the hardened walls as heavy, angered footfalls threatened to drown out the sound of her frantically beating heart.

Blood-curdling screams filled Y/N’s ears when she awoke at Spencer’s side. Her skin bubbled with nerves as she took in her surroundings.

“Y/N!” Spencer said, removing himself from the bed before outstretching his hand – a soft gesture meant to put her at ease. “It was just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe!”

When her eyes locked with his, she broke down in sobs. “I was running and running and running, but something was chasing me! Then I was in a small, gray room and I couldn’t escape, and I-“

“It was only a dream,” he assured her, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her still shaking body. “You are safe. I promise.”

“We must leave,” she insisted.

Fear melted quickly away into an awe-inspiring strength before Spencer’s eyes. Without another word, she gathered the few belongings they had and graciously thanked the widower for his hospitality. Placing a few small coins in his hand, she bowed toward him. The movement was foreign to her as she was more used to curtsying at royal engagements. But she needed to make the common folk in the kingdom believe she was just like everyone else.

As Y/N climbed into the wagon, Spencer readied the horses, giving both a reassuring pat before he got into the cart at her side. “We will be okay,” he repeated, giving the horses their cue to carry on. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

“Spencer, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For bringing you into this.”

“It was my choice,” he said, voice barely detectable over the rumble of the wagon’s wheels and horses’ hooves against stone and earth. “And I would make the same one.”

Curling into his body, Y/N felt the rapid racing of her heart and asked him to recite some of the poetry he’d memorized. As he spoke, his lyrical voice winding its way around her heart, she began to relax.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed:  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,  
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,  
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

The horses whinnied happily with renewed vigor, picking up a steady pace as Spencer steered them through the waning woods. Before them sat a field of flowers of varying colors, broken only by a thin dirt path on one side and the bubbling stream on the other.

They took the dirt path, watching as swath after swath of blue and purple irises, yellow daffodils and various shades of tulips kissed the edges of the stream. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” Spencer asked fondly. “I used to come out this way with my mother on occasion. We would read together here. Well, as a child, she would read to me. Later on in life, when she became too ill, I read to her instead.”

“Maybe one day we could do that again. You and I?” Y/N asked, allowing herself to drift into a world where they were safe from the clutches of Samel. But they still had a long way to go. “We could find a place that brings us peace and read to each other there.”

“I’d like that.”

She didn’t look up to see him, but she could hear the smile in his voice. After a few hours, Spencer stopped the horses and rearranged some of their belongings, affixing bags of supplies to their horses. Though he didn’t say, Y/N was under the impression that the reason for moving supplies from the wagon to the horses was that they wouldn’t leave much behind if they had to make a quick getaway.

Another hour passed before they came across a small village with an inn, headed by a curvy, blonde woman with a voice like morning sunshine. Though they didn’t get the chance to ask her name, the runaways knew it was a voice that they would carry with them in these hard times.

The gentle roar of the inn’s patrons was soon interrupted by the sound of the doors smashing open. Spencer quickly turned around to see two guards from the castle. “Don’t completely avoid contact if they speak to you. But don’t willingly meet their gaze,” he whispered, watching as his Queen’s eyes darted to the outside of the inn. “If we move now, we will never outrun them.”

When the guards approached, Spencer slipped his hand into hers and gathered it close. “What brings you to the inn today?” The taller guardsman asked.

“Celebrating a year married with my husband,” Y/N replied, attempting to mask the shakiness in her voice.

Spencer squeezed her hand and interjected. “Just an honest celebration. More on my part, that I somehow managed to marry a woman so beautiful.”

Blushing, she shielded her face in Spencer’s chest and waited until they moved along to the other patrons. With their attention targeted elsewhere, Spencer escorted Y/N out the back of the inn and toward their horses. He helped her onto Rowena and mounted his own when they were called by another pair of guards. Unlike the ones inside the inn, this pair looked familiar to the queen and her savior. “Stop!” They yelled.

“Ya!” Spencer shouted, slapping Rowena’s backside along the way. “Do not look back, Y/N!”

As the sun began to set, they made their way back to the stream and along its edge, the sound of Rowena’s hooves along the grass masking the frantic beating of her heart and the distant rumble of guardsman getting ever closer.


	3. Chapter 3

Wind whipped through her hair at lightning speed as Rowena’s hooves pounded the earth below. As they ran, Spencer and Y/N could say nothing, only able to focus on keeping the horses steady on their feet. With each step, Y/N felt her blood pulsing in her ears. it was so loud it practically drowned out the trotting of the horses. If they were caught, Spencer would be killed and she would be returned to Samel - a fate she knew would be worse than the mercy of death.

At her side, Spencer remained driven, his hands grasping the reins so tightly his knuckles were as white as snow. Catching her gaze, he bellowed. “Just keep going. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said the words, but his paleness told her all she needed to know. He was just as afraid as she was. Despite that, he was saving her from a lifetime with the King. “Left!” He screamed.

Rowena turned with practiced precision and pointed her trusty companion toward the semi-dense forest ahead. With any luck, the guards didn’t know these woods as well as Spencer. It was their only hope.

Among the splay of trees ahead, leaves and flowers, brush and grass scattered the ground, but Rowena stormed ahead, somehow sensing the danger. “It’s okay, girl.”

Thick grass smacked against the horses’ legs. Y/N could feel Rowena’s pain, but she didn’t let up, hopping over bunches of grass and piles of rocks like her life depended on it.

Spencer and Clemens remained steadfast up ahead, sweat dripping off his furrowed brow. As they snaked through the maze of trees, Y/N chanced a look behind and noticed there was no one there. The noise had been so great she hadn’t even noticed.

Y/N managed to get Rowena up to pace with Clemens and alerted Spencer that they were no longer in immediate danger. Her heart beat frantically as the horses slowed to a trot. “Do you know where we are?” She asked.

“We are a few miles from the Ashela border,” he replied, continuing quickly when he noticed the relief on her face. “We cannot stay there. I know it’s your home, but it wouldn’t be safe.”

“I know. Do you know of some place where we can spend the night?”

Spencer led her to a slightly larger town in Copros just miles from her home. After assuring her that the guards would have to travel two days around the forest to catch them (and that they would be staying no longer than a day), they boarded the horses, fed them and fell easily to sleep in each other’s arms.

—–

The following day, they woke early, too unsettled by the previous day’s events to sleep too soundly. After a quick breakfast and paying the locals for their help, Spencer and Y/N were off again - thankfully at a much steadier pace than the day prior.

Just a few hours into their trip, they crossed the border into Ashela - Y/N would know it anywhere. White daises and pink gerberas stood tall, scattered across the entire field before them. Occasionally, the flowers would be disrupted by wild, unkept grass, the occasional rock or stone - it all gave Ashela its own distinct beauty. Behind the fields stood mountains as tall as giants, snow-capped and still, though she knew of the storms that could rage there. Against the backdrop a clear blue sky, there was nothing like it.

To her side, Spencer stared before him in awe. “I grew up in Copros,” he said, voice light. “I’ve never known anything else.”

“Welcome to my home,” she replied fondly.

—–

Nearly a fortnight passed as they made their way through Ashela. Beyond the simple beauty of the fields they’d walked across after crossing the border, Ashela was much more desolate, having been decimated in the wake of the war with Copros.

Green grass shone brown, clumps of dirt kicked up by the stomping of soldiers’ feet and horses’ hooves. Everything around them took on a brown hue, even the sky seemed dimmer, the storms near the mountains looking increasingly more violent. 

Over the fortnight, Y/N found herself confiding in her stable boy, her savior. She cried in his arms as she recalled the abuse she suffered at Samel’s hands. She reminisced about her homeland, telling stories of the days she would spend at her father’s side as he lovingly guided his kingdom. He would tell her all about the stories he’d read with his mother and to her, sometimes reciting them for her as well.

Through the towns they passed, they realized that word traveled quickly; the subjects of her kingdom were aware of her escape from the palace. Some were worried about how Samel would retaliate, whether he would return to war. Others were glad for her, having heard rumors of Samel’s ruthlessness.

Each night as she closed her eyes, she went to war with herself. Her relief at escaping her husband fighting tooth and nail with her guilt over possibly bringing his wrath to the people she’d left to protect in the first place. Every morning she woke up sick to her stomach, questioning every decision she made.

Repeatedly, Spencer told her to stop thinking of herself as a royal. She was now just a woman like any other, and she deserved more than to be on the receiving end of the King’s anger.

With each passing day, Y/N grew more and more fond of Spencer - the comfort he provided, the seeming knowledge and anything and everything, his soft demeanor, yet his strength in the face of danger. When she went to marry Samel, it was purely to save her people; there had never been any love there. So when this feeling bubbled inside her, when butterflies fluttered in her stomach, when she smiled at the most mundane things about him, she wondered whether or not this was love.

One morning, as they woke and readied to travel for the day, Y/N asked, “Where are we going? I know we can’t stay here, as much as I would like to.”

“When my mother was younger, before she got sick, she used to tell me lots of stories about her travels,” Spencer started, his eyes sparkling with the memory. “She told me of Obrana, a country much like this one, full of beauty and flowers, one that remained peaceful despite the disarray in the surrounding countries. My mother said she came across a small town along a riverside with modest stone houses whose walls were covered in ivy and flowers. I want to take you there. We can live there- together- if you want to that is.”

“I do,” she replied. A peaceful life with Spencer was more than she could’ve ever dreamed. And she’d heard of Obrana; its beauty was only outdone by Ashela, although maybe she was biased because she grew up here. Standing up on her tip toes, she hesitantly pressed her lips to Spencer’s. At first he pulled back slightly, wanting to ensure her feelings were real and not those of a woman desperate to escape, but when he saw her eyes sparkle, a hint of smile turn up the corners of her lips, he smiled back, taking her lips in a firm but chaste kiss. One that told her that he would protect her, and love her. No matter what.


	4. Chapter 4

Though she knew that they couldn’t stay in Ashela, Y/N asked to stop frequently. She was weakened and needed rest; for reasons unknown, she was moving slower and slower as the days went by. And although he didn’t speak his thoughts aloud, Spencer sensed her need to take it all in, to say goodbye to the only true home she’d ever known.

As they prepared to depart the nameless town they’d lodged in for the night, Y/N felt herself sick to her stomach, retching near the outhouse for the third time that morning. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk much today. I might need to rely on Rowena.”

Spencer pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, grimacing at the heat of her skin. “You’re burning up. And pale. Before we leave, we must make a visit to the town physician.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied. Even as she spoke the words, she wasn’t sure if she believed them. “We need to move before we’re found. I’m sure there are still guards around searching for me.” When she stepped forward, she faltered, falling into Spencer’s arms.

“As soon as we see a physician, we’ll leave,” he assured her.

After asking a local villager to point them in the direction of the town’s doctor, Spencer pulled Y/N close to his side, steadying her exhausted body while he kept vigilant. Since leaving Copros, he’d been somewhat paranoid, searching around every corner and taking in the face of everyone he passed to ensure Y/N’s safety. He had to be alert enough for the both of them. “Here you are,” he said, helping her up the stairs. “You’ll feel better soon. I’m sure of it.”

—-

“What is wrong?” Spencer asked, cradling Y/N’s unsteady form in his arms.

The doctor smiled broadly, handing Y/N a tonic for her upset stomach. “I will give you some more of this for your travels, and it should help. But this will continue for quite a while. You’re with child. Congratulations to you both. Will this be your first child?”

Spencer answered shakily, squeezing Y/N’s hand in reassurance. “Yes. This is the first.”

When Y/N met his gaze, she began to cry. “Are you sure? I- I-”

He nodded. And she went numb, completely shutting down as Spencer gathered the necessary medications they would need for their journey. “The news of motherhood can be overwhelming during these uncertain times,” the doctor said to Spencer. “Will she be okay?”

“Yes,” Spencer replied as he cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure of it. It will just take a while to sink in.”

“You will make a wonderful father,” the man said, patting Spencer on the shoulder. “Good luck to you, both.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With the reality of her situation weighing heavily on his mind, he gathered Y/N to him once again. “Come, love.”

Feigning a smile, she did her best to move forward, though every muscle in her body yearned to collapse into a pile and die. She was carrying the King’s child. “Spencer, you must leave me,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Now that I am carrying the King’s child, you are in even more danger. If anyone here recognizes me, word will spread fast and Samel will send even more guards out to find me.” He didn’t deserve this.

Spencer spun her toward him, lifting her chin so that she could see him. “I will not leave you,” he said earnestly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked like a castle guard - a lone guard - making his way toward them. Quickly, he dropped the conversation and ushered her away, snaking through the houses and the stands at the local marketplace. Ducking their way around him, Spencer guided her between the inn and one of the homes, but despite his best efforts, the guard found them. “Stay where you are!” The guard said shakily. “I know who you are.”

Swallowing the bile in his throat, Spencer whispered in Y/N’s ear. “Forgive me for what I am about to do.”

He steadied himself and held a hand up, trying to assure the guard of their cooperation. “How may I help you, Sir?”

“That is the Queen,” the guard spat. “And you kidnapped her!”

Y/N channeled every ounce of strength she had into opposing the guard. When she opened her mouth to speak, the guard aimed his gun in her direction and without a thought, Spencer pulled the one weapon he had on his person - a small knife - out of his back pocket and plunged it into the guard’s neck.

“We must leave, Y/N. Now.” As they hastened their pace, she could hear the guard choking on his own blood. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, hands trembling. He’d never killed anyone before. “I’m so sorry.”

—-

Spencer helped Y/N into the carriage and readied the horses, ensuring their binds were tight as he hitched them to it. With Y/N so weak, the horses would need to take up the slack today. When he turned to her, to apologize for killing the guard, he found her asleep. Sighing, he prayed that when she woke she wouldn’t see him as some kind of monster. But he wouldn’t disturb her now; she needed rest.

Hours passed before she woke. “Spencer, where are we?” She asked, eyes still heavy with sleep but feeling somewhat better than before, at least physically.

“Just a few miles from the border of Obrana. I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.

“Why?”

“The guard,” he replied, shaking off the memory of the crimson river flowing from the man’s throat.

With what smile she could manage, she rested her hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do. I don’t think you a cruel man.”

Relief flooded over him. “I didn’t want to kill him. I took no joy in it.”

“I believe you.” For a moment, she couldn’t think of what to say, cradling her stomach. “Spencer, I have to say again. We should go our separate ways. I would not be offended if you wanted to leave.”

“Why would I?” He looked horrified at the mere thought.

Did he really not care? Did he not understand? “I am carrying the King’s child, Spencer! He took everything from me and now I will forever be reminded of what he did to me! I would not expect you to raise another man’s child.”

“It is also your child,” he said softly. “A child is not its father or its mother. It’s so much more.” Stopping the horses, he put down the reins and cradled her face in his arms. “I love you, Y/N. I have since the moment I saw you in Copros. It would be my honor to help you raise this child. We’ll raise it as ours.”

Her eyes filled with tears at his genuine kindness. “What have I done to deserve you?”

Pulling her in for a kiss, he whispered against her lips. “You were you, my love.”

For the first time since talking to the doctor, she allowed herself to feel, truly feel - the anger, the shame, the fear. As she sobbed into Spencer’s arms, she spoke over and over and over again. “Thank you.” For the first time since leaving her home all those years ago, she wasn’t alone.


	5. Chapter 5

As the days wore on and the travels continued, Y/N felt both freer and more suffocated than ever before. Though they grew further and further from the doldrums of Copros and the looming shadow of the King, her stomach grew - a forever reminder that the King had taken something from her that had never been his.

Sometimes, she would wake up in the middle of the night and huddle into Spencer’s embrace, focusing herself on the steadiness of his breathing and the almost angelic peacefulness of his countenance. Her thoughts would race. Did she deserve this man? Did she forsake her kingdom? Was she a horrible person for putting herself before the hundreds of thousands of people of Ashela? 

When she allowed her thoughts to spiral, she became overwhelmed, softly sobbing as her knight in stable boy’s clothing slept. Most nights, he slept through it; she purposely tried to quiet herself, not wanting to wake Spencer from a restful sleep after all he’d done for her. 

On this night however, her soft sobs pulled him from sleep. “What’s the matter, my love?”

“I’m so scared,” she cried, her voice breaking as her inner concerns finally became a brick-hard reality. “What if I have this baby and I can’t love it because of the King? I don’t want to hurt my child, Spencer. I’m so afraid that this dream I’ve had for so long, of being a mother, is going to be tarnished because of Samel! i hate him! I hate him! I HATE HIM!”

Spencer held her as she screamed, tears streaming down his own cheeks. His mother had told him many times before her death, that sometimes saying nothing was the best response of all. And although he wanted to make her feel better, he felt there was no way that he could, and instead held her as she cried. 

When he body steadied, he kissed her forehead. “We will get through this,” he assured her. “In Obrana, we’ll live a simple life. I’ll get a job and provide for us. And you’ll raise our baby. I will love them so much.”

Tears blanketed her eyes as she spoke. “You’ll love them so much, I’ll see you in them too.”

“Exactly. I won’t say that every day will be easy. Some days will be hard. But I love you.”

“I love you, too, Spencer.”

“Then that will be our foundation. And we’ll build our lives on it.”

—–

When they were just days from Obrana, passing through yet another Ashelan village, Spencer overheard a number of patrons in marketplace talking about the King. He rushed back with the news. “Y/N!” He spouted excitedly. “I have amazing news.”

“You found sweet potatoes?”

Spencer chuckled lightly and held them out for her. The baby wanted them apparently. “Yes, but that isn’t what I was talking about.”

“What is it?”

“I overheard some people in the market, and it seems as though the King has written you off as dead. Apparently, they found a body in one of the villages we passed through that bore a resemblance to you. He saw her and took her as you. He’s no longer looking for you.”

A weight she hadn’t registered floated away on the warm day’s breeze. “We’re…we’re safe?”

“Yes, love.”

When she burrowed into his embrace, he scattered kisses up and down her arms, and across the beautiful angles and curves of her face.

—–

Just days later, the passed into Obrana amidst a sea of flowers, much like his mother had described. It was much like Ashela in its vast beauty, with sprawling fields of flowers and small stone houses covered in ivy nestled in lush forests rather than on the water’s edge. 

“How will we afford a place to live?” She asked.

Spencer motioned to a bag with his life’s savings contained inside. “My mother and I didn’t need to live on much. She was very savvy with money before her health declined. So much of what I earned, I was able to save. I hope to buy us a home with it.”

In each of Obrana’s picturesque towns, Spencer and Y/N asked about permanent lodging: homes that might’ve been abandoned or ones for sale. And for a fortnight or so, they had little luck, until visiting a kindly old physician. “You are looking to settle here?” He asked.

“Yes, my wife will be expecting our first child in a few short months. I’d like to have her settled at home before then.”

A smile spread across his face. “For be it from me to impose, but I have some place you might be able to stay, with a few conditions of course.”

When they urged him to continue, he told them his wife had passed months earlier. There was a fairly large home and one smaller home on the property in which they lived. “Now that my wife is gone, it’s become lonely there. If you wanted, you could move into the larger home. I would take the smaller. All I ask is that you would help with the upkeep of the property.”

Later that day (with the doctor’s confidence that the baby would be a girl), Spencer and Y/N accompanied the doctor to his home. Set amongst a lush forest of trees stood a beautiful stone home with big windows and a sturdy, weathered roof. At its side, just a short walk away, stood the smaller home the doctor had spoken of. “It’s beautiful,” she said, crying as emotions she hadn’t expected took over. “Sir, are you sure? This is such a beautiful home. I would hate to have you leave it.”

“Having such a big home to myself is more of a burden at this point,” he said frankly. “Plus, it’s lonely without my wife. With the smaller house, I would be able to craft a place that is uniquely my own, and I would have you two lovely young people to keep me company. And that little girl of yours.”

Glancing toward Spencer, she questioned without words. Would this be their home? She could picture a child running along the pond’s edge, picking blue irises from the nearby fields to adorn their dining table. Here, she could imagine smiles.

“What payment would you accept?” Spencer asked hopefully. “I have my life’s savings here. About 60 pounds.”

“Forty,” he replied with a smile. “You help with the upkeep of the property, maybe have me to dinner once a week and use the rest of that to get yourselves on sure footing.”

When Spencer squeezed her shoulder, she bounded toward the doctor, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to us! 

“Call me, David,” the man said softly.

“David, thank you! Spencer, we have a home!”

His smile could brighten even the darkest of rooms. “That we do, my love.”

—–

In the months that followed, Spencer and Y/N married in secret and settled into their new home. At first, furnishings were sparse, but eventually Spencer was able to obtain a job nearby in the stables, as a manager of sorts. With a steady income, they were slowly but surely able to make the house into a home that they loved - just in time for the arrival of the baby.

David helped the nervous parents through a difficult birth, one that left Y/N bedridden for many days after. She’d lost a significant amount of blood, but with David’s expertise, she survived.

When he laid the babe in her arms, she wept - not out of fear or anger as she’d expected - but of joy. Despite her beginnings, she had Y/N’s eyes and somehow, hair that reminded Y/N of her darling stable boy. “What should we name her?” Spencer asked, smiling down at the child he would forever call his own.

“I was thinking…Diana,” Y/N smiled sleepily. 

“Diana, it is,” he replied as a tear fell down his cheek. “Diana Reid. Welcome to the world. We both love you so much.”

The End


End file.
